


Pleasant Lies

by stonecarapace



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, F/F, Madeleine Era, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:11:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stonecarapace/pseuds/stonecarapace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Should not a mayor do what she pleases with her Inspector?"</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"Yes, ma'am."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pleasant Lies

"A mayor should not do such a thing," she said.

Madeleine kissed the inside of Javert's thigh and flicked her tongue there, tasting away salt and sweat; her thigh quivered and she fisted her hands in Madeleine's coat.

"She should not," she repeated. "Not for a spy—Madame—"

But then Madeleine kissed higher, close to the heart of her, where she was wet and pink and utterly open for her. She pressed open her thighs with two firm hands and dug her knees into the floor, resisting Javert's attempts to pull her to her feet—and she flicked her tongue against her soft slit and the hands at her shoulders twisted. Javert's knees turned in, knocking against her arms, but Madeleine was firm with her hands and would not let her legs close. 

"Madeleine," she said, and then said nothing more. Madeleine flattened her tongue along the folds of her cunt and began to taste at her, tracing along one lip and then the other and then between, dipping her tongue between those pliant folds and ending with a light flick at the swollen nub of her clitoris. The noise in Javert's throat was strained, low-pitched, animal. Madeleine hummed, pleased, in the back of her throat and began lick at her in earnest, long, slow licks that went from her perineum to her clit, and each lick was firm at the beginning and lightened until it was just a flick of her tongue against her clit. She dipped her tongue against her slit and found her opening and pressed in, and could feel her clench against her—one of Javert's hands buried in her hair and twisted there, an unconscious yanking that only made her want to fuck her in earnest like this, her hands bracing against her taut thighs, her nose buried against her soft flesh, the sharp taste of her cunt on her tongue. 

She mouthed at Javert's cunt and began to fuck her in earnest with her tongue, though it made her jaw ache and she could not press her tongue as deeply as she would like—with each thrust she flicked her tongue up and out so that the wet tip of her tongue teased at her clitoris. Javert bent over her and shuddered; when Madeleine glanced up, the lust and pleasure was so frank on her face that she could hardly believe it was Inspector Javert bent over her. This glimpse at her spurred Madeleine on—she pressed her tongue as deeply into her as she could, her mouth and nose and chin all wet with Javert, and she swallowed her down and mouthed and kissed. 

Panting, she pulled back; Javert bucked her hips forward and grunted; her hands twisted again, and Madeleine groaned in pain. She would pull her hair out like this. Rather than chastise her, she bent forward and began to lap at her clit with firm strokes, unforgiving, until Javert's thighs shivered under her and she began to tense with her oncoming orgasm. It was then that she paused, and gently kissed her clit, and began to trace gentle kisses down her wet cunt and across the inside of her thighs, leaving the skin damp and sticky. 

"Do you still think a mayor should not do this?" she asked, punctuating it with a light lick at her slit.

Javert nodded. 

Madeleine pressed her lips to her clit and sucked, gently. "Hmm," she said. "Should not a mayor do what she pleases with her Inspector?"

"Yes, ma'am," she gasped. 

Madeleine took her by the wrists and guided her hands away; she set them on her head and said, "Gently, please," and with that, resumed her diligent work. She traced patterns along the lines of her cunt, teasing the pliant inner folds from the thick outer ones, teasing both lines carelessly before delving her tongue back along the soft line of her slit and up toward her clit. Javert began to stroke her hair with hands that shook; when Madeleine sucked again at her clit, she had to stop touching her lest she clutch at her hair again, and it was only when Madeleine eased away to lap at her cunt that she could resume her hesitant petting. 

It was strange to have Javert obeying her like this, to have her vulnerable and panting and eager; it felt sordid, like the worst kind of lie—but Madeleine could not find any shame or regret in her, not when she had her tongue deep in Javert and her nose buried against her clitoris and Javert's hips canting against her face. Perhaps the regret would come. For now, she would focus on making Javert come.

And she was surely close; she kept check on the small moans issuing from her throat, but she could not control the way her thighs trembled as Madeleine licked at her clit or the way her fingers skittered against Madeleine's scalp. Madeleine began to stroke her thighs rhythmically, teasing at the sensitive skin and dipping her fingers under her knees, making her jump and shiver. Javert began to rut helplessly against her face, and Madeleine considered making her stop, but the rocking motion helped her tongue work against her folds and so she allowed it, mouthing and sucking at her—her teeth scraped against one of her folds and elicited a sharp gasp. 

Madeleine turned her face into Javert's thigh and wiped most of the wetness away from her mouth and chin, and then turned back to her and laved at her cunt and clit in earnest, hard and fast, using Javert's rhythmic thrusts against her, letting her messily fuck her face—and then Javert came, her body clenching with it, the orgasm rolling over her in powerful waves, and she moaned, shuddering violently. Madeleine did not relent, sucking at her clit and trying to fuck her with her tongue despite the erratic way her hips jerked into her—and continued even as Javert began to lapse, so that her thighs shook and her cunt tightened with another spike of pleasure, the aftershocks making her moan more loudly than her orgasm had, a desperate, plaintive sound; her hands twisted helplessly in Madeleine's hair and then released her with a jerk. 

Slowly, Madeleine relaxed, until she was gently kissing at her swollen lips and cleaning away the wetness that had covered her. She found that she did not want to pull back, did not want to return to the role of Mme. Madeleine, did not want to let Javert slip away from her. 

But, she thought as she sat back on her heels, that was ridiculous. This was nothing more than a farce, just a quick fall into sin, another mistake, another black mark that would make Javert hate her, in time. Madeleine was nothing but a pleasant lie.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and gazed up at Javert, who was flushed and panting; some of her hair had fallen out of her queue and stuck to her face. 

She would not know forgiveness for this. "That will be all," she said, and smiled, hoping Javert would not see past this pleasantry. "You may return to your post."


End file.
